Ke Kontan

Ke Kontan

Sunday 30 December 2018

Stuck in the Middle (with you)

As I am being lead behind a building to a group of small houses with tin roofs, I can’t help but think “man I wish I had a GoPro on so everyone back home could see this”- so they could see how people get by with so little.  As we reach our destination the young girl says “you pee there”.  She points to a small drainage pipe sticking out of the ground.  She shuts the tin door that has multiple large holes in it and leaves me to do my business.  Needless to say, I suck at the whole squatting and peeing over a hole thing.  I’m out of practice.  I’m not sure which collected more urine, my feet or the drainage pipe.  Although most would be disgusted, I couldn’t help but smile and miss this life.  

People have often asked what the hardest part of all of this is for me.  Surprisingly it’s not the constant poverty or need that I am faced with while in Haiti. The hardest part is being stuck between two very different worlds.  The world of consumerism and fast paced living and the world of survival and island time. The world where it doesn’t matter if you pee on your feet and hop in the car and the world where “Ew omg you aren’t getting in my vehicle like that”.  There’s a constant tug between the country I left, and the country I am currently living in.  Both have become an integral part of who I am, and I often find myself stuck in the middle between the two.  

In Haiti, the people that surround me are in survival mode.  The need is so great here and it doesn’t stop after you help a couple of people.  It’s never ending.  It’s always in front of you.  It’s hard for people who haven’t experienced this type of life to fully understand it or grasp it.  It’s hard coming from a country full of resources to a country where the government rarely (next to never) offers support to those in need.   There’s no programs here to offer assistance to families who are homeless or in need of food.  They can’t just simply sign up and be guaranteed enough income each month to at least feed their children.  Here, you can give and give until you have nothing left.  After selling all of my belongings and giving up university and the life I had in Canada to move to a developing country, I felt like a vagabond.  But here, you are the government program- you are looked at as the wealthy blan who is going to take away their problems.  You are the person who’s going to make their lives better.  They look at you with hope.  And sometimes that pressure can be a lot to take.  Back home, you are looked at as the annoying humanitarian that is constantly asking for more and more support from their community.  

How do you choose who to help? How do you decide when to stop? How do you go back to your home country and see the consumerism (that you yourself partake in) and still sleep at night? How do you swallow the pill that you’ve won the lottery of life while those you love in developing countries are laying down tonight with pangs of hunger in their bellies? It’s all so hard.  It’s something that you can never just shake.  I’ve had to learn to try to put it in the back of my mind.  I’ve had to learn how to try to shut it off.  I have to shut it off in order to continue to live in my developing home country.  I have to trick my brain into saying “it’s okay to consume.  It’s okay to buy all of these Christmas gifts and spend all of this money on decorations to make my home look pretty”.  And although I convince myself of these things at times... the guilt never truly escapes me.   I still sit and wonder how our worlds became so divided.  

I think back to families we have helped where the kids were literally eating mud and then I think of my own son who wants cookies every 5 minutes.  I think of how easy it is for me to just walk over to our cupboard and give him one when he’s hungry.  Or how easy it is for me to walk over to the sink and give him a glass of water when he’s thirsty.  Then I think of the mom who has to walk miles in her bare feet to a river to take a small bucket of water for her children.  I think of the bucket she has to carry back on her head and the game of risk she takes by giving her child that water not knowing what illnesses or infections may lie ahead after drinking it.  I think of my son being sick and how immediately I can take him to the hospital.  I don’t have to think it over it’s just second nature to take him in right away when his fever is over 100.  I think of how when I’m here and faced with an illness I can just jump on a plane and head home to our incredible healthcare system.   And then I think of the mother who has her dying child in her arms and decides there’s nothing she can do except watch her baby suffer.  She doesn’t have money for transportation to the hospital and she definitely doesn’t have enough money to pay for the hospital bill and continue to feed her other children.  So, she decides that her baby will have to die.  Can you imagine that? Then I think to all of the new clothes I just bought back home.  I think of how I’ve been “keeping up with the joneses” and how jealousy and greed easily come to me when I’m in Canada. I think of how much I now love the comforts of home and how I’ve become comfortable when I used to lead a life of being comfortable being uncomfortable (if that makes any sense at all).  I think of all that my Haitian friends have been through, and yet how much faith, hope, and positivity they withhold.  I look back at my friends in Canada and how negative and angry they become because someone simply cut them off or because the food they were served in a 5 star restaurant wasn’t cooked to perfection.  I look at how these trivial things can completely upset our day and how easily we lose hope and positivity.  It’s actually quite mind blowing.  

For any of you who have recently watched the Netflix special “Bird Box”.  The only thing I can think of after watching it is how it’s such a metaphor for the real world.  If you remove your blindfold off and are exposed to  the rawness and reality of our world it can consume you.  It takes your life and you cant go back from it.  You can’t un-see it.  

I recently read another Missionaries blog post about this same subject (which actually inspired me to write this) and what she said hit me right in the heart strings: 
“Those of us in the middle carry a pervasive struggle in our hearts.  You can’t really articulate it because it’s a kind of schizophrenic leap between guilt and jealousy, gratitude and shame, pitying others and pitying yourself, anger and sorrow, generosity and greed, a bleeding heart and a shocking coldness due to compassion fatigue.  It is a fight and we get tired of living in it often.  We want to enjoy moments and people and things, but it isn’t that simple anymore.  Our highs and delights are tempered, and your pains and sorrows often feel unworthy.” 

So, I remain stuck in the middle (with you- sorry I had too).  Learning to accept my two very different worlds that offer very different perspectives.  I remain stuck battling between abundance and need.  A battle that I will never win.  However, I know that I am blessed to be a part of this battle.  I am blessed with the opportunity to learn from both worlds.  To be able to step back and see life from one perspective or the other.  To have my heart in two places at once.  

Thursday 27 December 2018

An Emotional Return

As I sit in my dimly lit room feeling exhaustion taking over me, I can’t help but reflect on not only this whirlwind of a day, but of the last seven years.  

As we began our decent into Haiti, I couldn’t help but be overcome with emotions.  First, tears filled my eyes as I whispered “home”.  A place where I found myself.  A place that encompasses a large part of one of my most important organs (yes, my heart).  I felt a sense of pride- even though I am in no way Haitian, I still feel a sense of pride for “my” second country.  My son is part Haitian.  Some of my in laws are Haitian.  And my second family (my kids and staff) are Haitian.  This country is a big part of me.  I can’t even put into words the exact feelings I felt, but I felt whole.  I felt a sense of relief that I am finally back.  The smells, the noises, the hustle and bustle of the streets, the distinct things that make Haiti, Haiti.  

As I opened my mouth to greet people, creole just came tumbling out of me.  It was like word vomit.  I haven’t spoken it in almost a year and to be honest I thought I wouldn’t be able to still speak it flutently.  “If you don’t use it, you lose it”.  However, that was not the case.  It felt so good to be speaking creole again.  To be giving high fives and saying “Sak pase” (what’s up) to all of the oh so familiar faces at the airport.  As we drove to the home, I directed the way.  There’s special markings on walls or small little shops that I recognized and how I first learnt my way of the streets in port au prince.  As we bumped down our gravel road my heart once again filled up with an indescribable joy.  Neighbours waved to me and some of the kids ran to tell other kids and to round them up to stop by our house for a visit.  As I pulled into the gates all of my babes were standing there jumping up and down yelling “Emily, Emily, emily”.   Hugging them was so fulfilling.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  

The staff and I ended up sorting gifts and it was amazing to see how many gifts each child got! Thankfully spirit airlines didn’t even charge me for my overweight baggage (I’m not sure how I managed to score that one- it never happens!) so I was able to bring pretty much every single toy that was donated!  The kids all patiently waited downstairs as we made up their little piles.  Finally once we were done, we called them upstairs on a scavenger hunt.  They were so excited and there were screams of excitement as they lifted up their gifts.  This moment made my holidays complete.  
















After we finished opening gifts I decided I wanted to do something special for my older boys.  One thing I find very important for our kids, is for them to see the beauty of their country and learn the incredible history behind it.  So, 7 of us loaded into a little Jeep and headed up to the top of a mountain where we went to Furcy.  It was a long bumpy ride and some crazy mountain side roads, but it was so amazing.  We stopped for pictures every few metres and the boys enjoyed some Haitian Griot (pork) at a roadside stand.  They couldn’t believe that they were still in Haiti when we made it to the top.  They told me I took them to Canada because it was so cold up there.  There was massive trees surrounding us and beautiful views of the mountains.  It was so nice to spend quality time with these little boys that have now started turning into men.  We all ate dinner together at the top of the mountain and enjoyed each other’s company and laughter.  

Now back to reminiscing on the past seven years.  I never could have dreamt up this life.    I never could have imagined that somehow I’d end up in Haiti and it becoming such a big part of me.  Nor did I think I’d have a family here or friends that are the type that last a lifetime.  I didn’t plan for any of it, it just happened.  I felt called to be here and once I started caring for these children, I couldn’t stop.  They became one of the biggest blessings in my life.  They’ve taught me so much about life, about resiliency, about faith and hope and survival.  They taught me who I was.  They made me a mother at the young age of 19 when I had no idea what the hell I was doing.  They forced me to step out of my comfort zone and to live in conditions I never thought I could and to speak a foreign language fluently within 3 short months.  They showed me what true strength and courage was.  They taught me unconditional love.  

When I started out on this journey, I had no idea of the hardships I’d endure.  I didn’t know I’d have days where I’d stare death in the face, where I’d lose friends and have to bury children whom I loved.  I didn’t know I’d have to watch innocent people suffer or watch children almost disintegrate due to malnutrition.  I didn’t know I’d be robbed and threatened or any of the rest of it.  We can never really know what lies ahead and the obstacles we will be presented with.  We can only know that we will experience these hardships.  We can do our best to prepare our minds, bodies, and hearts for these challenges but we will never truly understand them until we are in them.  Most of all, I didn’t know that one day I’d be choosing between two families and having to split my time and heart.  And although some days it’s been almost unbearable, I am so damn thankful I get the opportunity.  Who’s lucky enough to have so many family truly I ncredible family members in so many places? Me.  And although it tears my heart strings being away from one or the other, I know that I am truly blessed.  

I know that I was given a once in a lifetime opportunity and I also know that is my responsibility to use it to its fullest; to give every last ounce of energy I have until I collapse at the end of it.  All the hardships, all the tears, all the hard work put into it will be looked back upon as the best thing I’ve ever done (it already is).   And it won’t be because I enjoyed every moment of it, or because I impacted lives, but because I gave it everything I had, even when I didn’t think I could and especially when I didn’t want too. There’s been days when I’ve been so close to just throwing in the towel.  So many times I actually told people “I’m done”.   Haiti is a very difficult country to work in, and it can take the best of you if you let it.  But it can also allow you to be your best self.  It can be the most rewarding thing in the world.  Thankfully I’ve had an incredible support network and board members who have stood behind me and picked me up time and time again when I lost my footing or lost my hope.  So to anyone out there chasing a dream and who’s tired and exhausted and feels like they have nothing else to give.  Keep going.  Keep running. If you run until you have nothing left to give, keep going anyways.  Cry and pray and work and sweat and plead until you are so drained that all you can do is hit your knees.  Come out of it proud of what you’ve done, because this experience will bless the rest of your life.  Just as it’s done mine.  I am so thankful for all of those who have continued to support me and who haven’t allowed me to call it quits.  Because if I did, I wouldn’t be spending my evening hugging and kissing these beautiful children who truly make me feel whole.  

Thank you so much to the Bartlett family for making this trip possible and to all of you that donated funds and toys to ensure that our children had a Christmas!  I thank you from the bottom of my heart 💗